A Shared Soul
by ericalpatt
Summary: After being nearly beaten to death and tossed in a river, Arabella is kidnapped by the very people that put her there in the first place. The man that orchestrated this whole mess happen to be the most powerful vampire in existence. His goal is to see the world burning at his feet, but where does Arabella fit into this?


**Hope you enjoy!**

There was a time when the most pressing matter on my mind was the probability of my passing next week's test. It's sickening how swiftly everything can change and how your top priorities are rearranged by the twisted calling of fate. My teenage obsession with having a good time and finding the next party was forcibly replaced by daily survival challenges. There were days I fought for my life, fought to keep my heart beating despite the inevitable undead state I was destined for, and days when I raged war with myself, fighting the desire to end my own miserable existence. It was in those moments that I had convinced myself that I wouldn't really be dying, to die you have to contain some remnant of life and the entirety of mine was stolen away, ripped from my very body.

I was nothing but the emotionless husk of a vibrant and young girl. I wish I would have appreciated the life I held before this disaster. Back then I had stubbornly despised my life as well as all of its colorless, bland contents. Now as I look back at the memories I once hated, I wanted it back, to restore the innocence I had to its original state. I've been forced to mature so quickly that I am now unable to attain enough naivety to cling to such a hopeless dream, I've come to realize that no matter how hard you wish it wasn't true, time only moves in one direction, forward, there is no turning back. My desperation to rewind time and leave this place has caused me nothing but pain, so I will rid myself of it and embrace this dark life I've been thrust into. I believe it is the only option that will benefit me, though it doesn't really matter what I believe because if I don't act upon it I'm certain my life will end.

**The Beginning**

Buzzards circling high above my body, waiting for my heart to stop so their bloody feast could begin, their mouths expelling loud, hungry shrieks plaguing my ears. It was the first thing I became aware of as I returned to the conscious world. Though my heart did not take note of their wants and its beat sped up steadily, pumping confusion and fear through my body. My complete ignorance as to where I was gave the fear currently flooding my senses an extra boost. My ears picked up the soft sloshing of water, and I could feel its cold embrace sweep over my legs, receding slowly only to come back and cover my lower half once more.

A tiny stream of light was shone on my situation as I realized where I was, which was washed up on the side of some river. One question answered, a question that brought an onslaught of unanswered friends along. It was painfully obvious that something had gone terribly wrong; this was not where I should be. My warm bed, curled up in a tangled mess of blankets with my arms wrapped around one of my pillows from my obsessively large collection, that was where I should be. Sleeping away a massive hangover, a couple of Excedrin's and a water bottle on my night stand waiting for me, probably courtesy of my father. Yesterday was the biggest day of any teenager's life, high school graduation. I wasn't exactly a model high school student, so my last four years of mandatory education were spent drinking ever time a party presented itself, which happened to be almost every weekend, and scrounging up money for my next pack of smokes, and in my earlier years I'd occasionally indulged myself in a bit of weed.

My senior year I partied more than the average college student. It was the life, having only minor detriments such as having to put up with a few bitchy family members who didn't approve of the things my parents let me do. Speaking of parents, I probably had a pair of the most amazing people raising me that you could come by these days. While most teens fought to keep their weekend activities away from the parental units mine encouraged me to let them know where I was and as long as they knew I would be safe they were fine. Their greatest bit of advice being 'Red and blue lights, run, duck, and hide.', so you can obviously gather that I partied like a mad woman graduation night. I just wish I could decipher how partying at most ten hours ago landed me here in this filthy river washed up like some dead fish that came off the trout line.

A layer consisting of mucus like algae covered my body like a slimy second skin. The need for a shower quickly shot up on my priority list as I resisted the urge to empty my stomach of its contents. A series of heaves threatened to push through my esophagus and I closed my eyes counting to twenty in an attempt to cut off the repulsive act. The nausea settled slightly and I decided to try and move my severely mistreated body. I pulled my arms through the disgusting sludge I was currently resting in, facing my palms down and slowly applying enough pressure to lift my upper body. My hands sunk an inch into the slimy earth and I hardly got my chest off the ground before my aching appendages cried out in protest finally giving way beneath me. I didn't hit the ground with much force, but I must have been more battered than I thought because the sudden contact sent me into tears from shear pain.

I laid there unmoving on the ground, the salty excess produced by my eyes running over my parched lips. My tongue snaked out to catch the tears every so often desperate for the slightest bit of moisture. I was completely immersed in my thoughts for God knows how long trying to asses my situation and put last night together. It was hopeless, like assembling a jigsaw puzzle containing all the wrong pieces. Every time I thought I found a matching piece to add to the jumble mess that was my memory, it resulted in a tear-jerking headache. So when my stubborn mind gave up I stopped thinking, and resorted to a practice I only used around my bible thumping uncle. I prayed. I put all of my heart into it and prayed that this was all a terrible nightmare and in actuality I was home safe in my bed, I prayed that God would take pity on me if it was in fact reality and help me out of this disaster.

I sat in an agonizing silence impatiently waiting for a reply I knew deep down wouldn't come. I clenched my fists angrily and whatever shred of hope I clung to was drown in despair. Why would a person whom I only called on when I needed something help me? At one point in my life I had considered myself a Christian but I was young and naïve, I didn't know the sorrows of life, and over the years my mind had slowly begun rationalizing the likeliness of such a being. A part of me wanted to believe but an even larger side pushed it to the far corner of my heart. So why would someone whose very existence I doubted and waged wars with myself over help me? I quickly decided that religion wasn't going to solve anything and ceased praying.

I somehow got myself into this mess and I'd be damned if I couldn't get myself out it, no matter how hopeless it may seem. I inhaled a deep breath attempting to calm my stressed nerves, but all it did was piss me off when the simple act of exhaling caused such an agonizing fit of coughs. I was so frustrated with everything! I felt so weak and helpless, it didn't work for me at all. I was probably one of the most hardheaded and in control people you'd meet. I never cried or let people know I was in pain, in my eyes it was weakness and I'd been taught not to tolerate weakness. Now here I was crying because I couldn't breathe. It's my own damn fault, I may not remember last night but I know I drank and I can go through two packs of smokes when I drink. My lungs were most likely shriveled up to nothing right now. I started to ponder my being drunk last night as a possible reason for my memory-loss. My friends had usually referred to me as a light weight, because nine times out of ten I'm the first on drunk. My reply to them would be 'I'm a hard-hitter, not a slow-sipper.' I didn't drink to fuck around, I drink to get completely shit faced. But I've never had a night where I couldn't recall anything, well maybe at first I would have a few pieces missing but they would always come back after my head had the chance to reassemble itself.

So I found myself taking the only option I had right now, waiting for my mind to become a little less scattered and allowing it time to recuperate. I didn't really feel like trying to move again, I knew all too well it would bring another onset of pain. So I laid there unmoving making shapes out of the cloud passing overhead until the sun had shifted to its current position directly above me. I ran my tongue over my chapped lips desperate for any form of relief. "Noon." I whispered hoarsely to no one in particular, and was taken aback by the hoarse tone of my voice as well as the pain caused by simply using my vocal cords. It seemed that my lips weren't the only thing entirely deprived of moisture, my throat felt as though I tried to swallow a gallon of hot sand.

I was pulled even further into despair when I realized my mind was just as blank concerning the events of last night, as it was when the sun had peeked over the horizon upon my awakening. I sighed defeated and rolled over, my arm sprawled limply under my pounding head as a cushion and barrier from the slimy filth I was laying in. A frog squatting beside me tensed up, its powerful leg muscles wound and ready to vault into the water at my movement. My eyes drifted over to its startled appearance and I smiled at him weakly. He lowered his legs from their alert position as though he sensed that I was much too weak and pathetic right now to cause him any harm. He met my gaze head on, his throat bloating outward as he let out a loud croak.

The ache that seemed to have been flowing through my veins like liquid fire was beginning to let up, not by much but it was enough for me to gather enough of the emotion known as courage, which has been so elusive up until now, to lift myself once more. I tightened the muscles in my upper body and flung myself to the side efficiently rolling back onto my stomach. I laid my hands firmly against the ground and desperately willed every bit of strength I possessed into them to push up. My eyes started watering for the millionth time today and my breath came out in short ragged spurts. I let out a loud gasp giving a final push and found myself resting on my knees.

My fingers dug into the mud as I braced my body for a wave of extreme dizziness that was currently wreaking havoc on my head brought on by my sudden movement. I waited, stationary, until I could finally look around without the world spinning and examined my body thoroughly for any damage. My lungs were robbed of breath at the gruesome sight that was me and I fought desperately to get it back. Every single visible inch of my body was covered in bite marks. I reached to brush the mud out of my wounds, hoping that these were the extent of them and that they weren't in any inappropriate places.

My hand barely grazed that bite marks and I was groaning in pain. I looked down at my shirt, my earlier assumption shattered when I saw the red tint mixed in with the mud covering it. There were bite marks surrounding both of my breasts and scattered around my navel. I studied them carefully and to my horror I realized they were made from human teeth. My breath caught in my throat and I choked out a cough. I traced my fingers over them with a shaky hand, flinching at the contact. I bit my lip to hold back a cry. They were deep and very tender, my whole body began trembling as I pondered what could have done this. Or better yet how the hell I evaded dying from blood loss. I didn't give myself much more time to muse upon that thought seeing as another quickly stole its place. I needed to get to a hospital and quick, I may have been able to cheat death once today but I'd bet I wouldn't get a second 'get out of jail' card.

The muck I've been wallowing in today had taken residence in the multitude of open wounds I'd acquired and if I didn't get it taken care of I was sure to get a nasty infection. I heard a raspy scream from above and my head quickly shot up in search of its origin. I immediately regretted the move as the soft ache in my neck became an almost unbearable pain. The group of buzzards was still circling me, their numbers more than doubled since I last checked. I feared that their patience was growing thin while waiting for my death and that they would soon care less for my biological state and turn me into a living, breathing snack pack. That thought was the last push I needed to swallow the pain and move somewhere safer, preferably a hospital.

I forced my mind to focus solely on the task of getting to my feet, hoping it would block out the pain, well at least some of it. Standing up proved to be an unbearably slow and agonizing process and when I finally stood on my own two feet I would have jumped for joy if I hadn't felt like I'd just completed a triathlon. My legs began shaking intensely threatening to fall out from beneath me at any moment. I quickly wrapped my arms around the nearest tree to provide a considerable amount of relief from the work they were so painstakingly performing. A harsh layer of bark tore the exposed skin of my arms slightly, the irritation was of little bother when matched up against my aching lungs.

I could literally feel their desperation as they sped up to pump much needed life into my oxygen starved body. An effort greatly hindered by the abuse they had gone through in the past two years. I silently promised to quit smoking if and when I got out of this alive. My eyes wandered over the body of the tree that I had turned into a refuge from the pain by propping myself against its willowy form. Its branches were leaning toward the river and an abundance of leaves covering their ends, just almost touching the water's surface. It was as though the starved tree was reaching out, attempting to obtain the nutrients that the roots were obviously couldn't absorb. I felt sad for the pitiful tree and somehow I noticed similarities between the faults of the tree and myself. It was striving to cling onto life unable to fulfill its basic life function all because of fates cruel design. It could never live to the fullest no matter how hard it tried, in a weird way I could relate to the struggling tree.

I shook my head, putting the tree out of my mind as there were much more pressing matters at hand. Lifting one of my legs I stretched it out and wiggled my toes before pulling the limb back to my body. The process brought forth a bit of pain, though, compared to the aches I'd felt earlier, it wasn't something to even flinch about. 'At least my leg still functioned properly' I thought trying to bring a bit of light to my dark situation. I took a few steps away from the river and hopefully in the direction of any kind of civilization. My lungs were having a tough time keeping up with my body's demand for oxygen and I began to feel even more helpless. I had barley walked seven steps and already my respiratory system was failing me, I was pathetic. A wave of vertigo took residence in my pounding skull. I put a hand to my forehead out of habit, in an attempt to cast the foreign feeling from my head by massaging the bones covering my temporal lobe. The movement of my arm must have thrown me off balance because seconds later I found myself falling back on to the cold, unforgiving dirt. My head was in a complete uproar now so I kept my eyes closed and pulled my hands, which were now clenched in pain, to my sides and willed the terrible ache away. I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it. The world was spinning and I tried focusing on one thing, only to succeed in making my stomach churn. I sat up slowly, feeling the uncontrollable urge to vomit. My throat quickly filled with evacuated contents of my stomach and spewed forth from my mouth and onto the ground. My mouth tasted of copper and the vomit covering the scattered leaves was a dark red. "Blood" I mumbled to myself and wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

The urgency in which I was moving more than tripled. If I had an internal bleed I would need medical attention very soon. I pushed myself to my legs quickly and started forward, my steps gaining speed as I moved. I didn't feel pain anymore, I didn't feel anything actually, my whole body was becoming numb and I prayed it wasn't going into shock. I stayed at this pace for thirty minutes, maybe an hour, I don't know I've never been a good judge of time, but I knew the river I'd woken up in was no longer in sight so I had to have made quite a bit of progress. I smiled slightly at my accomplishment and finally found a small sliver of hope to cling to when a gruff voice shouting not far from me, echoed off the trees practically made my heart stop. The voice triggered some of the missing memories from the previous night. Why were they back? What more could they possibly want from me? Tears began falling down my cheeks and I felt as though I might lose control of my bladder. "Spread out. She's here, I can smell her. Don't fuck this up again." My body practically convulsed with fear and began pumping adrenaline through my veins faster than I could blink. I tried to determine the direction of the voices and quickly sprinted in the opposite way as fast as my tortured body would allow.

I don't know how but they must have heard the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath my bare feet because I hadn't made it far at all when a pair of marble arms wrapped around me and threw me to the ground. A small whimper escaped my lips at the hard impact and I whipped my head up to meet my assailant. This man would have been one of the most gorgeous creatures I'd ever seen if he wasn't trying to kill me at the moment. A sadistic grin spread across his face. "Got you princess." He said while crouching down beside me. I moved backwards, wanting to put space between him and myself, but was stopped by a vice like grip on my ankle. I grew increasingly angry at this man and his violent actions. "What do you want from me?" I ground the sentence out sounding damn near possessed. Any sane person would have been intimidated by my harsh tone, but he acted as though I hadn't said a word. He reached for my face, his hand coming to cradle my cheek as he brushed a piece of hair from my eye with his thumb. I shivered at the contact; the sexual attraction this man radiated onto me was over powering my common sense.

I leaned into his touch greedily, wishing his hands would travel to more than just my face. He swept his thumb back and forth over my lips, never once breaking eye contact. "I wonder what the Master sees in you." His venomous tone brought me back to reality, at least partway. I found the will power to pull away from his addictive touch. He frowned and stood with a speed my eyes couldn't possibly follow. "Get up you are to come with me. I tend to be a very punctual man so hurry up. I will not miss my deadline." He started walking away and I noticed a group of about ten equally enchanting men waiting for him in the tree line. I was pissed now. It felt as though he was treating me like a marionette whose strings could never be cut. I stood up shakily, and took a defiant stance. "How about you just fuck off? There's no way in hell I'll go with you." The man stopped and looked over his shoulder casually, flashing me a fanged smile. Fangs… there's no fucking way. A great bout of laughter shook the man's shoulders. "Oh cara I beg to differ." In the time it took me to blink he was at my side. He pinned my arms behind me and wound a hand in my hair, pulling my head sharply to the side. I felt his tongue run the length of my now exposed neck. "Please, stop." I felt his chest against my back shake with laughter again. "What no attitude this time?" I stayed silent. "What a shame." I screamed out as he bit into my neck, and then the pain as well as everything else faded into blackness.

**reviews are much appreciated! and also since i have no clue if i want to continue this story they will help me decide!**


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